Satu expressed his astonishment at what he had heard; but still doubting, asked: “Did you go into all the rooms in his house, and does he ever send bales and boxes to the coast?”
“Yes,” replied Tonzeka, “I went into all the rooms, for one of the boys showed me every nook and corner one day while the white man was absent. He does not trade, consequently he has no bales and boxes to send to the coast. Friend Satu, do not believe those lies about the white man. Evidently ivory and rubber have a value in their country. Why, the white man himself showed me a coat and a sheet made of rubber that no water could pass through. I tried them myself; and I understand that in their country it rains all the year round, for they have no dry season as we have, and if they had no rubber they could not make rubber coats, and would have to stay in their houses every day.”
Satu thanked his friend and said: "What you tell me about rubber coats and sheets quite accounts for the presence of traders in our country; but these ‘white men of God’ do not trade. Why are they here?" And a look of sly triumph came into his eyes as he continued: “They don’t buy rubber, they don’t deal in ivory, they don’t trade in anything, and, according to your own statement, they don’t even buy dead bodies. Why are they here? That is what I want to know?”
“That is the very question I put to this white man myself,” replied Tonzeka, "and I will try to give you his answer. He said: A very long time ago, years and years ago, the people in his country were just like the people are now in our country. They were naked, painted savages that lived in huts in their forests. They had spears and knives, and fought each other as we do. They had canoes like ours, and wore brass armlets and anklets very much the same as ours. They believed in fetishes, charms and ngangas; and, to use his own words, his forefathers lived wretched lives and died miserable deaths without God and without hope. Then some messengers brought to his country the wonderful news about God, about Jesus Christ, and about the great Salvation, and the hearts and lives of many thousands were changed and filled with joy and pity--joy because they were saved, and pity for us who know not of God’s great love for all, for so great is His love that He freely gave His beloved Son to die for us. Now these people have sent this white man and others like him to pass on the blessings of Jesus and His grand salvation to us, for it seems that this Jesus gave them a command to preach the good news to everybody all over the world.
“I spent nearly a whole evening in talking these palavers over with the white man, and I have told you all I have remembered; but I am afraid I have forgotten a great many of his words.”
Again Satu thanked his friend, and promised to ponder in his heart the words he had heard, or, as he expressed it: “To drink water over them.”
“Well,” said Tonzeka, “I have sent two of my sons to the white man’s school, and they are learning to read, write, do carpentry and to make bricks. They are gaining much knowledge, but there is one thing I do not like about this white man.”
“What is that?” eagerly asked Satu.
Tonzeka paused a few moments before replying, and then he broke out in a self-pitying tone: "This white man tells me that I am a bad man, because I lie, steal, commit adultery and become often very drunk, and in doing these bad deeds I am breaking God’s laws, and shall be punished for doing so. When he talks like that I always feel very uncomfortable, for I know that what he says is perfectly true. I never heard before that God had given any laws for us to obey, because, as you know, we have no books; yet when we get drunk, or thieve, or lie, or do any other bad action, something inside tells us that they are wrong and condemns us; but we are not ashamed, because everybody does them. If he would give us medicine, and teach our boys and girls it would be all right, but when he talks God’s palavers I do not like him, for he makes my ‘heart stand up’ with fear."
Satu was about to condole with him, but there was a general movement towards the fires, for by now the saucepans were steaming with cooked food, and all the folk were eagerly anticipating the feast of pig and pudding. Satu turned these matters over in his mind, and remarked to one of his head men: “After all, there are some disadvantages in having a white man in one’s town, if he makes us uncomfortable in our hearts; and,” he continued, “I am not sure whether Tonzeka is bewitched by the white man, or is sharing profits with the white man in the sale of dead bodies.”